Julian stared at the system window hovering in front of him.

> [MANDATORY QUEST GENERATED: THE IMPERIAL HUNT]

> Context: You have been invited to the Imperial hunt by the Emperor, who has a negative affection level concerning you. Its left for you to prove whether you’re a threat or someone he doesn’t need to care about.

> Objective: Survive the Night Hunt.

> Hidden Objective: Identify the ’True Hunter.’

> Penalty for Failure: [Status: Deceased] or [Status: Imprisoned in the Royal dungeon].

> Reward: 400 SP, Affection level with the Duke’s family increases exponentially, & Survival rate increases exponentially.

> [Note: "A King’s invitation is a command. To refuse is to beg for a grave. Refuse again, and the King will see your actions as challenging his authority."]

Those words at the bottom of the quest log made Julian feel even more worried. The penalty for this quest was harsh. Of course, he would do all he could to survive the night; he didn’t have any plans on dying yet. But when he looks at the content of the generated quest, it makes him believe that this night there was going to be someone hunting him.

He had his bets on the Emperor, or maybe it was an assassin, the thief who stole from the royal treasury even. It could be anyone and his life was now hanging by a thread.

He wasn’t safe at all. That was why he wanted to get away from this damn capital.

The Duke looked at Julian, the dread on his face, and wondered if the Emperor had once again succeeded in causing him to panic in his sugar-wrapped offer.

But before the Duke could ask him if he was alright, Julian bowed his head.

"Then, I shall take my leave now to go prepare, your majesty," he said and then bowed to the Duke. "Your Grace,"

With that, he turned on his feet and swiftly made his way out of there, planning to open up the system right away and search for a way to survive this night in case of any unforeseen disaster that was already smiling at him.

The preparations for the Night Hunt had been finalized a long time ago, and the nobles had begun to troop into the hunting grounds, erecting their tents that of course paled in comparison with the Imperial family’s tenth. They all erected their flags proudly, trying to become second in this hunt because the Imperial family always came first.

It was like a thing where no one can be better than the Sun under the heavens, the Emperor. He takes first in the hunt, no matter what he catches, and the rest can fight for the spot after that.

Julian found out that the reason they came to the Capital in the first place was that the Emperor had invited Duke Alaric to join this event, coupled with a few other minor details like how he hadn’t seen him in seven years, and how he wanted to see his nephew, and yada, yada.

Julian huffed, feeling the Emperor was definitely going to become his downfall.

He was wearing a grey leather hunting suit he managed to savage before the hunt began. It was one meant more for horse riding than a hunt, but he didn’t look out of place. Instead, he just wished he didn’t have to come here.

In the first place, why was the hunting event carried out in the dead of the night? Wasn’t that dangerous?

There was this belief that the feral animals come out mostly at night, while the small prey sleeps, so nighttime hunting was more fun.

Whoever thought of that must have been an idiot looking for trouble and accidents. Julian whined.

The time for the hunt came, and Julian, despite hating this night hunt idea, found himself lost in the scenery.

High above the churned mud was the Imperial Podium raised like a gilded cliff. It was draped in heavy crimson silk, illuminated by a thousand floating mana-lanterns that turned the night into an artificial noon. There, seated on velvet chairs that looked down upon the world, were the Royals. The Emperor sat at the center, a crown of laurel leaves fashioned from solid gold resting on his brow, his posture so relaxed it was predatory.

Next to him were his children, but the Empress’s seat was empty. There were talks that she was unwell, and that seemed to be the case if she wasn’t attending a royal event.

Below the podium, the rest of the world existed in the dirt.

The nobles, aristocrats, and knights stood on the ground level, their horses shifting restlessly in the shadows cast by the Emperor’s light as he made his boring speech about how night hunts were meant to solidify friendships between families. All a farce, of course.

Julian stood by the side of two horses, a normal brown horse and a sturdy grey mare, with little Lucius standing by his side, wearing a cute blue leather riding suit. The same idiot who thought it was a bright idea to have a hunt at night made it so Children could be present in such a dangerous event.

Incredible. Truly and stupidly incredible.

Julian tilted his head up, suddenly feeling the literal weight of the hierarchy; the distance between his level and the Emperor’s was no joke, not like he was jealous. He just wished he could hit the Emperor in the face just once and not worry about getting executed. Of course, that would only happen in his wildest dreams.

The grey mare was the Duke’s stallion. Julian was simply using it as a shield to hide from his brothers and father, whom he swore he had spotted in the crowd. They were the last people he wanted to see at the moment.

Then, the horse shifted, and Julian looked up to find the Duke mounting his stallion with ease.

Duke Alaric sat high in his saddle, his blackened riding suit catching the flickering light of the mana-lanterns. He hadn’t had a chance to get a word with Julian since he left the Audience Hall, and now he finally felt he could say something.

But there were too many eyes, and too many busybodies, so he couldn’t even act fondly with Julian as he liked.

As the final horns began to warm up, he finally spoke up.

"Why did you refuse the Emperor’s offer?" Duke Alaric asked, catching Julian off guard. "A title like that... it would have given you a life of luxury. Most men would have crawled over glass to take it."

Julian didn’t look up as he tightened the girth of the Duke’s saddle to make sure he didn’t fall off along the way, like he was in any position to worry about others when his own life was in danger.

"A title bestowed on a whim is the same as a title revoked on a whim, Your Grace."

Alaric’s brow furrowed. "He is the Emperor. His word is law."

"Precisely," Julian replied, finally lifting his head to meet the Duke’s gaze with a look of neutrality in his eyes. "The Emperor has the power to elevate a man to the heavens one morning, and that same Emperor can send him to the gallows by sunset for the sake of a bored afternoon. I simply chose the side that isn’t whimsical. I value stability over ’privilege.’ I’ll definitely live longer this way."